


A Year Down South

by KayleeArafinwiel



Series: Fourth Age Frolics [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 18:18:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18103856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayleeArafinwiel/pseuds/KayleeArafinwiel
Summary: Elanor Gamgee/Gardner spent a year in the service of Queen Arwen in Gondor. Drabbles and other stories showing what she got up to. In progress for B2MEM 2019, starting with a drabble length encounter between Karim (my OC, Aragorn and Arwen's Haradric foster-son) and Elanor.





	1. And Day Brought Back My Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation between Sam and his eldest children, before they depart for Gondor, takes place in the study of Bag End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ages of Sam and Rosie's children, and how they relate to equivalent human (physical) maturity is noted here, as described in Dreamflower's chart "Hobbit Ages".  
> Elanor - 20 (13), Frodo - 18 (12), Rose - 16 (10), Merry - 14 (8 ½ ), Pippin - 12 (7 ½-8), Goldilocks - 10 (6 ½), Hamfast - 9 (5 ½-6), Daisy - 8 (5), Primrose - 6 (3 ½-4), Bilbo - 5 (3), Ruby - 3 (18-20 months), Robin - 1 (8 months).

“Sam-dad, are you sure about goin’ away now?” Elanor asked, brow creased in concern. “We’ve just had the Birthday, an’ all…”

 

“Now, not to worry,” Sam said reassuringly. “Never you mind that, Elanorelle. Cuttin’ it a bit fine, it is, but we travelled this way in Halimath afore. ‘Twon’t be too hard to do it again, leastwise with no Black Riders chasin’ along behind! And we’ll have an escort,” he reminded her.

 

Some of the Northern Dunedain would be awaiting them at the Bridge, Elanor remembered. “Course, Sam-dad. Silly of me to worry.” She smiled. “I’m sure we’ll do just fine.”

 

“Well, I worry about you both, and ‘specially Rose-mum,” Frodo said, coming up to his father and sister. "Still, going to be with Uncle Strider and Aunt Arwen and all...I suppose you'll be safe." But with his parents away, who would take care of them? His parents gone was like Day turned Night! He was sure Da and Mum had said, but with so many to look after it'd gone clean out of his head. A sudden squeak made Frodo and Elanor both turn round.

 

They’d left the study door open, and a gaggle of little ones were crowded ‘round the door, which only he and Elanor had earned the right to enter without permission. “Away all that time for so long? It’s not as though Ellie will be on holiday with you; she’ll be working for the Queen and all. And there’s the little ones to think of, Dad…”  Rosie-lass piped up from her place.

 

“Already all thought of, remember?” Sam reminded his children. “You’ll be accompanying us as far as Brandy Hall; Master Merry an’ Mistress Estella will be seeing to you, being nearly kin and all they’ve extended the invitation.” Baby Robin, of course, was too little to be separated from his parents yet and so would be taking the journey with them, but all the rest would stay at Brandy Hall.

 

“Folks’ll say we’re queer, being left to the Master to be brought up like Uncle Frodo,” the lad observed, thinking of his departed namefather wistfully.

 

“Well, Frodo-lad, you keep up your lessons like we’ve begun, and it won’t seem too long ‘fore we’re home again,” Sam said. “Write to us, and the King’s Messengers will see we get our post in Minas Tirith. We’ll be back in no time at all, you’ll see. Now, it’ll be time to start lunch soon - go ask your mum what needs doing,” he addressed the children, from Rosie down to Bilbo-lad. Ruby and baby Robin were with her already, and the other children went, chattering amongst themselves about going to stay with Uncle Merry and Aunt Estella. As they thundered down the hall, Merry-lad was especially vocal in his delight about going to visit his namefather, jumping for sheer joy and shouting until Rosie-lass shushed him with a rejoinder of her own that could have started fireworks.   
  
“You make this hall fall down, Merry Gamgee, and I’ll be a-callin’ the Shirriffs, I will!”

Merry thought of the Shirriffs with feathers in their caps, and their blue cloaks, and hushed.

 

Sam and his elder children exchanged looks of mutual understanding, and exasperation.

 

“With your permission, Da, I’ll go make sure the little ones have all packed,” Frodo said quietly. Sam nodded.

 

“Good, Frodo-lad. Elanorelle, best you check your own things; you know how the lasses are about borrowin’, an’ we don’t want you going to Minas Tirith with half your pack switched out.”

 

Elanor blushed. “Aye, Sam-dad.” She curtseyed to Sam - for she knew she’d have to do the same to Uncle Strider and Aunt Arwen and all - and Frodo bowed, before Sam’s eldest children departed the study together.

 

They’d be leaving after lunch - Sam made his way to the Ivy Bush to fetch the coaches he’d hired to take them to Buckland. The coach-hobbits were good lads, and would join the family for the meal.

 

As he left, he looked back through Bag End’s kitchen window, hearing light and laughter spill through. His heart swelled with love for his family, but a gulf as wide as a canyon seemed to be opening in his mind between himself and the littles.   
  
Oh, he’d miss the children while they were gone, but a trip to Minas Tirith was still too much for them all! Bless Merry and Estella for offering to take care of his and Rose’s brood - a year in Buckland was enough of an Adventure for them to be having!


	2. On The Banks Of The Baranduin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frodo-lad spends some time outside, watching over his younger siblings and conversing with his older sister before the latter begins her journey with their parents to Gondor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This follows on from both "And Day Brought Back My Night" and "Urgent Summons" (which itself followed from "Perhaps the Greater"). All these were written for B2MEM this year quite recently and are posted here. Title is a reference to "On The Banks of the Anduin", yet another B2MEM of mine but shouldn't be confused with it.

Frodo-lad stared out at the Brandywine, absentmindedly raking his fingertips through the earthen bank as his younger sibs ran shouting behind him. The trip to Buckland had gone well, a dozen young ones divided between three coaches; he had shared a coach with Merry and Pippin, as well as little Hamfast.

Ellie had Rosie, Goldie, and Daisy to herself; Sam-dad and Rose-mum rode with Primrose, Bilbo, Ruby, and baby Robin. The littles needed Mum and Da for as long as possible, before Ellie, Mum, Da, and Robin went ahead without them after luncheon.

The blue sky was mostly clear, just a few puffy white clouds. It would be a perfect day for working in the garden, back home. Brandy Hall didn’t feel like home yet - still, it was home for the next year, he reminded himself. That piney smell on the cool air made him hunger for the soft earth.

“Rosemary,” Frodo perked up, climbing the bank to the kitchen garden. The herbs were grown in pots so they could be brought in over winter when the weather grew cold, but they were still outside now. The tween sat between two pots and brushed the needles with his fingers, releasing more of the rosemary’s fragrance.

“Rosemary, that’s for remembrance,” Elanor murmured as she drifted over, quoting something from one of old Mr. Bilbo’s books, Frodo thought. “Pray you, love, remember.” She gently broke off a twig and tucked it in Frodo’s weskit pocket. He blushed redder than their mum and sister’s nameflower.

“I’m not your love, Ellie,” he said.

She laughed. “I know, and I hope not to go drownding in any lakes anytime soon! But I am going away; and I want you to be sure to remember me while I’m gone.”  
  
“Drownding,” Frodo stirred, looking out at the river. “Like Uncle Frodo’s parents.” **The former door where dead feet walked in,** he thought, making him shiver. **Let’s talk of graves, and worms, and epitaphs...** That always made him think of Da’s tale of Moria, and the lost Dwarves, though there it had been Gandalf who fell into mountain gaps and deep water.  
  
“Aye, that’s why the Hall keeps so much rosemary about, along with the primroses,” Elanor explained. “Auntie Blossom was just explaining it to me. Leastwise she’s asked us to call her that; she’s the head cook here at Brandy Hall, but she’s part of Uncle Merry’s family too. She said it was difficult to explain, maybe you can discover her secret while I’m gone.”

Frodo nodded, and turned back to the Brandywine, where it seemed the lads were playing at being Corsairs. They’d heard the tale of Castamir from Uncle Pippin - he was quite cryptic in his motives, Frodo thought. He wondered if pirates had sailed up from the mouth of the Brandywine.

Just then, Rose-lass came outside; she had adorned her plaits with **lime** -green and **lemon** -yellow hair ribbons.

“It’s time,” she said to the little ones. “Go wash up.”

Startled from their play, they jumped.


	3. At The Queen's Service

"Beg pardon, Lord Karim, is there aught I can do as would soothe you?"

 

Karim pulled out of his moment of reverie, looking back at the young hobbit with a charade of nonchalance. Elanor saw through it at once.

 

“Don’t you be lookin’ at me like that- Goldi-lass has that brave look, I know pain. Scar or stump?” She passed her amber pendant over his branded left hand and right wrist-stump. Karim nodded. 

 

“I not yet drunk Abba’s tea. He gone to the Elf colony.”

 

“Ithilien-en-Edhil? Course - it’s Hensday. I’ll fetch it.” Elanor hurried off. If ‘twas Rohan - perish forbid!


	4. Watch Out In That Tree!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aragorn is angered and grieved when Faramir is carried to the Houses of Healing with a serious injury. He has to confront the Prince of Ithilien’s assailant with Arwen by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aragorn, Arwen, and Faramir-centric, along with an OC. No Elanor in this one, but this happens while she's there.

“How came the Prince Faramir by a collapsed lung?” King Elessar thundered.

“‘Twas an accident, sire,” the young archer stuttered, falling before the King and Queen in all their majesty and holding the purple hem of Arwen’s cloak. “Mercy, I beg of you, your Grace!”

“What is your name, nethben?” Arwen asked.

“Mallor son of Hurin the rat-catcher.” 

“Tell us how Prince Faramir came to be hurt, Mallor,” Aragorn repeated. 

“I was shooting apples,” Mallor admitted. “I knew not the prince was there, composing his latest poem!” He handed over the fragment which had fallen when his arrow flew astray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think Aragorn should do with him, hmm? Suggestions welcome!


End file.
